Me and Phoenix rose at the crack of dawn, five o'clock in the morning to reach our class at six.
I was mechanical when it was time to get ready in the morning, everything was in the exact same order.
I got up, brushed my teeth, and got in my jumpsuit.
I fixed my hair, and made sure I looked as presentable as possible.
I made my bed, so our dorm would be prepared for any surprise inspections this week.
Natasha, sorry, Phoenix was really similar in that way too.
By the time we both finished our routines, our room was spotless and we had 15 minutes to spare.
I was already liking her more and more.
"Ready to go?" I asked her, slipping on my boots.
"Ready!"
We walked out of room and locked it behind us. On our way to our class, we talked. I asked her multiple questions, and I learned a lot about her.
Natasha was from Phoenix, Arizona, which is where she got her call sign. She was a double pilot, and hadn't met her Weapons System Officer yet. Phoenix was good at pool, and loved to go on runs in the morning.
I found myself opening up to her more than I had to anyone in years. I talked about how I've been wanting to be a pilot since I could walk, where I've been stationed, and where I've been in the world.
I could always make friends fast, but keeping them? That was a whole other issue for me. Most couldn't deal with my cocky attitude sometimes, or my indifference. It felt nice that I could be myself around Natasha, and open up a little.
The heat was starting to pick up, and I was already sweating, and the sun was just barely peaking over the horizon.
We made it to our classroom, wondering what we'd be doing first.
According to Commander Metcalf, every day we'd have two missions, with classes in between, with the occasional night flight.
I was getting antsy, I just wanted to be in a cockpit already, flying from dawn to dust.
I sat in the very front of the room, playing with my pen, waiting for our instructor to come in, as Phoenix found her WSO, and sat behind me.
I thought I scared everybody off when a familiar soul sat down beside me.
Jake.
"You looked all lonely sitting up here alone." He says, pulling out his F-18 instruction manual.
"Really? Do you just look for me in every room you walk into?"
"Maybe."
I give him a hard glare, until he gives me a real answer.
"Fine, fine. I was the odd man out of my group of friends, and was dared to sit next to the girl I saved yesterday."
I practically snort. "I could've saved myself."
"Let's start over. I'm Hangman." He puts out his hand.
I eye it, and then I slowly shake it.
"Avalanche."
"As in Iceman's daughter? Zoe Kazansky?"
I forgot that I didn't end up giving him my last name the other day. "Yep. Still wanna sit next to me?"
"Of course, sweetheart."
Phoenix laughs behind me, but I keep my focus on Hangman here.
"Call me sweetheart one more time, and I promise you that you'll never fly again by the time I'm through with you."
He raises his hands back in defeat. "No need to be so violent, Avalanche."
"Then you don't need to flirt with me any further, Hangmam." I say fake sweetly, bashing my eyelashes over dramatically, before slouching in my chair.
"Okay fine—," he wants to say more but is interrupted by our commanding officer.
"Attention!" An admiral said, and we all stand up from our seats. "At ease." He said, and we relaxed. "My name is Admiral Chester Cain. Hammer. We're splitting the room down to e middle. Singles on the left. Doubles on the right."
He was straight to the point.
Mostly everyone begrudgingly moved, while I stayed standing at my seat. Natasha groaned and said a quick bye, moving across the aisle.
"You may be seated." We all sat down in near unison. Admiral Cain doesn't look up from his clipboard. "We will be taking attendance, say here when I call your name."
I didn't pay attention like everyone else, I started studying.
Hangman whispered to his buddy, Coyote behind him, while a familiar face joins us.
"Bradley?" I asked confused.
Bradley Bradshaw looks up, questioning, "Zoe?"
Hangman looks back and forth between us, absorbing the fact that me and Bradley knew each other, but eventually returns to his own conversation.
"I haven't seen you in ages," I admit, slightly turning around in my chair.
"Not since your father's promotion a few years ago." He recalled.
Curious, and only going after what my father had said, "What are you doing here? I heard Maverick..."
That was a mistake.
Bradley face tightens in fury. He tries to soften it, but just says, "Yeah, it's fine."
I change the subject. "It's good to see you."
"It's good to see you too."
"What's your call sign?"
"Rooster."
I almost laughed out loud as soon as he said it.
"It suits you really well," I say with a nostalgic smile I haven't worn in ages.
But then it starts to fade as I realize that my dad blames himself for Goose's death. More so than Maverick.
"And yours?" Rooster asks me.
"Avalanche."
I can tell that Rooster has a near same that I do, when he chuckles. "Looks like we both got named after our dads."
I give him a nod, before turning back around, not seeing the need to small talk. And once again, my guard was back up, and I began studying.
Every second at Top Gun counted. Second place wasn't an option.
"Zoe Kazansky." He hesitated, and then silent room broke into whispers. Admiral Hammer looked up to see which student was Iceman's daughter.
"Here." I said, raising my hand, my eyes still looking through the manual. The Admiral looked at me for another five seconds, before continuing down the list.
"You're already making waves, huh?" Jake says trying to pull me away from the book.
Still not giving him the time of day, I counter, "If you think this is anything, just wait until I get in my F-18."
He opens his mouth, but his name is called.
"Jake Seresin."
"Present." He says, keeping his eyes on me, but ultimately leaving me alone.
I learned that Phoenix's partner for the next 13 weeks is a guy name Brandon Wolfe, Omega.
Class drones on, but I intend to soak in any information I can, so I'm paying attention closely, even if I look like I'm not.
I knew that every second of these weeks were meticulously handled by our instructors, and if information was important enough to learn in our training, than it was important enough to memorize.
Our first class we just went through the F-18 instruction manual. We had to know our planes backwards and forwards, what it could handle, what it couldn't, and what every part and piece was used for.
It was daunting and humbling what I did and didn't know about my own air craft.
Immediately after that, we had our first mission flying as a class.
We were split into two teams and ended up playing capture the flag. Natasha ended being on my team with Rooster, and a couple of other people I didn't bother to learn their names. Hangman and I think Coyote were on the other team, and they sure gave me a run for my money, but we still won, and I scored the most points.
We take a small break for lunch, and I sit with Phoenix, as we swap stories from our squadrons in between bites.
Our next time allotment was our first solo mission, and it was a timed flight course, just to keep us on our toes. Finish first, without crashing into the electronic course's edge.
I felt jealous of the double seater because they had an extra pair of eyes, but an extra person was distraction and ultimately a hindrance, especially for a pilot like me. I didn't need someone to constantly ego check me.
My flights suit is already on, and my hair tucked away under my helmet.
It's a white with blue accents and Avalanche is printed across the forehead of it, and it sharp and drastic lettering. On the sides there are snowflakes.
I swing up and over my ladder, sitting in my cockpit, and I squeeze my control stick three times for good luck.
Kazansky's are winners.
Jake, who I've come to know as Hangman, was walking by to his plane, helmet in his hand.
I start to prepare all my systems to begin taxiing down the runway.
Before I close my canopy, someone pops up on my ladder. "Where you getting off to so fast?" Hangman drawls.
"The skies. I'll see you up there." I try to shake him off, but he still wants to talk.
"After I win today, there's a group getting together at the Hard Deck on Saturday, you and your friend want to come?" He says, referring to Phoenix.
"We'll be there." I say cooly, ignoring his first statement.
"See ya." He slides down my ladder and watches my next reaction.
"Have fun with being second!" I call after him, and then close my aircraft canopy, not giving him the last word.
His face hardens, and his walls are back up again.
Maybe I shouldn't have said something like that, his ego was still sore from his loss from earlier.
But I must not tell lies.
❅
I had a slick smile plastered upon my face as soon as I landed on the runway.
I won.
Duh.
Was there ever a doubt?
I flew through the course not only the fastest in my class, but out of everybody at Top Gun.
I had a record to my name. Not my father's.
Of course, I only took off 0.02 seconds off the original record that was made last year, but I still was faster. I was better.
That earned me both respect and hard glares from my classmates.
Hangman did not deem it necessary to talk to me after todays events. He really must be used to getting his way and winning, because there was no other way that I had pissed him off this badly.
I admit, this was going to be a long 13 weeks.
❅